


in the closet

by bluecarrot



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Fellatio, Frottage, Hamburr, Hate Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Wordcount: 100-1.000, really kids that's not a common tag but closet sex is, sort of a sequel, sort of not, there we go, um, unlikely scenarios, what even is lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecarrot/pseuds/bluecarrot
Summary: aaron & alex work off some aggression. in a closet. it's a metaphor! 
  oh -- isn't the skin of his back delicious as it dips in between his shoulder-blades, and doesn't he make the sweetest little gasp when he's taken
 (intended as sequel to shameless, but i didn't bother with stuff like "coherent narrative structure" so you may enjoy it as a standalone if you like)





	

**Author's Note:**

> written 11/30/2016.

It's hot in the closet, and  full of out-of-season furnishings; necessity compels them to stand close together. 

Hamilton presses himself closer still. His breath is hot and his whispers are rough, here in the semi-dark.

Burr growls. "Six. Hours. You talked for _six hours._ "

"I saw you there. Listening to me. Did you like it? Do you like hearing me? Did you think of me? Did you think of this? When you got up, was it to piss? or did you put a hand down in your breeches and --"

"I hate you." Burr's already breathing hard. He hates that, too.

Alex laughs. "Tell me again."

"I sincerely," and Burr's fumbling at the ties on Alex's breeches, made more difficult because Alex is leaning backwards against his shoulder and he's not helping at _all_ , just grinding a little against Burr's hand,  _goddamn it --_ "I very strongly feel," tugging down the fabric to the sound of complaining; does that mouth never stop? so Burr bites down right above the hip where the flesh goes soft, and he cups his other hand in front over the warmth the length, oh Alex -- 

\-- Alex, who is moaning loudly enough to be overheard by anyone passing by. 

Burr imagines the door opening to a room of faces, amused and disgusted. If they're caught before he gets off he will never forgive Hamilton, _never --_ so he  shoves him against the closed door. "I told you to _shut up._ "

"Quiet. Sure. Quiet as dawn. Quiet as the grave. No problem." Alex giggles. "Got it."

He's a fucking annoyance even like this, _god_  Burr hates him --  but oh -- oh -- isn't the skin of his back delicious as it dips in between his shoulder-blades, and doesn't he make the sweetest little gasp when he's taken like he's surprised every time, and it might just be true because Burr finds himself desperate and disbelieving and angry at this happening _again,_ the two of them together -- and Alex is so -- how does he stay -- why are they --

No. No _why._ He doesn't want to think about why.

"Shut your mouth," Burr says again now, because Hamilton is sweating and so is Burr and he can't take it, he hates him, Alex is whimpering and whining and he's so good so good, how could Burr ever hate him? He closes his eyes and buries his face in Hamilton's neck, can't help himself, can't help disobeying the tacit agreement topull out when he comes -- he shivers against Alex and holds on, holds on.

Consciousness comes back too fast and with it, shame. Burr shifts, tucks himself in, reaches out to help finish the unusually-patient Hamilton by hand -- but

"Hey. Wait," and Alex is kissing him. Another agreement broken.

Burr moves away. Mumbles. "Sorry." For coming; for the kissing. For being angry in the first place. All of it.

"Aaron, I --"

"Yeah. I'll --"  And Burr drops to his knees, a first for them in a long time, though the taste is familiar and deep and good and he finds himself swallowing for more while Alex, his Alex, makes a strangled noise and finishes hard.

Burr can't spit out, here, so he does not. He chokes and makes a face and and rubs at his mouth. "You can leave first." Burr wants him to leave; he needs a minute alone.  He might need more than a minute.

"Burr," says Alex, looking beautiful and uncertain. "Thank you. But that wasn't what I -- Nevermind. You hate me, right? Tell me how much you hate me."

It's easy enough to hate him: he looks like a goddamn mess. He looks _undone._  He's clothed again, more or less properly, but his is hair is fallen out loose around his face and his eyes are bright, and his mouth -- that mouth! -- is bitten out, swollen and full. 

"You're a shit. And I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone." It's an excess of emotion he is entirely unwilling to question.

"Thank god." And Hamilton smiles -- kisses him -- catching Burr off-guard, making his temper flare again -- and ducks out of the room,  drawing shut the door. A quick flash of brightness and then he's gone.

"Fuck," says Burr.  He shuts his eyes. 

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> goddamn duels are sexy
> 
> tumblr @littledeconstruction


End file.
